


Highlander

by AccioMarina



Category: Outlander (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Outlander Fusion, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, King Bellamy Blake, Princess Clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:28:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13661868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioMarina/pseuds/AccioMarina
Summary: On a run-away vacation after WW2 in the high lands of Scotland Clarke finds herself suddenly transported back in time to the year 1743.  In her bewilderment she stumbles across Bellamy Blake, a highland lord, who saves her life and offers her something else in return. Being trapped in the past teaches Clarke truly how to live and how to love.OR an Outlander/time travel au





	1. Uneven Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This story will follow a similar plot to Outlander but I will be adding my own twist to things and omitting certain details. 
> 
> This fic will be 5 parts. I will try to post as quickly as possible before I lose motivation.

The countryside flew by as the wind whipped Clarke’s curls from her tight braid. Clarke gripped the steering wheel harder, white knuckling the clutch as the she rode past hills, mists and rocky outcrops. She had to get away and Inverness was about as far off the grid as one could get.

It was 1948, the bloodiest and deadliest war this century had ever seen was finally over. Most of the other soldiers and nurses were heading back to their old lives, raising kids, working in factories and trying to forget the horrors they had witnessed. In the beginning Clarke had done the same. She’d returned home to England and to her mother. She’d been reintroduced into the high society life of parties, luncheons, and gossip. In truth, she hated all of them.

Worst of all, she hated her mother. The second Clarke’s feet touched down on English soil her mother had started her search to find Clarke a husband. “Honestly Clarke, it’s high time you met someone and settled down. I let you go off to that war, you had your rebellion. But now it is time to do what is expected of you. Clarke you’re nearly twenty this should’ve happened years ago.”

Clarke had just rolled her eyes. No one had ‘let’ her do anything. She did what she pleased and if anyone, especially her mother, had a problem with it they could shove it for all she cared. The night she signed up to be in the infantry, she’d slipped out her window and shimmed down three stories on the drain pipe after her mother had locked her away. She’d just turned 18 at the time and the war had been ragging for 3 years prior to that. She’d lost her father already. Clarke wanted to help. It was an easy choice to sign up as a nurse. She’d already received partial training from her mother and this was as close to the front lines as she could get. It was one of the only positions open to women.

Two years passed, the war ended and Clarke returned home to find her mother more adamant than ever that she secures a good marriage for her daughter. Abby was nothing if not persistent. For two months Clarke endured party after party. She talked to lawyers, and doctors, and politicians all more interested in looking down her dress than anything she actually had to say.

Then her mother introduced her to Wells, the son of senator Jaha. Clarke remembered Wells from when they were young. He used to visit with his father and they would play in the backyard together. Wells had been one of her only friends as a child. But then Jaha got a job in a different city and Wells went with him. Clarke hadn’t seen him since, and she had to admit he’d grown quite handsome.

They hit if off rather nicely. She actively sought him out at the different parties and the two would hang back in a corner whispering about the hideous dresses or the different men her mother brought to her, each one more disagreeable than the last.

Wells was a good man, he was kind, and funny, and he liked to hear her ideas on things. He saw her as his equal not a plaything to be put up on a pedestal. He loved Clarke, that much she knew. Wells was the right guy; he was who she should choose. Clarke knew it and her mother knew it. It didn’t matter that when Clarke looked into his eyes she didn’t feel anything but friendship for the young man. She loved him, but not in the way he wanted her too. The other girls her age assured her that love came after the marriage. Still Clarke wanted more, and she thought Wells deserved it too.

Out of all of her options, Wells was certainly the best. So when he dropped to one knee in front of her and presented her with a ring Clarke didn’t think twice before agreeing to marry him. It was a simple choice. Besides maybe the girls had been right, maybe she would grow to love Wells. Maybe that was possible.

It wasn’t.

As her mother prattled on about summer weddings, and the colour of flowers Clarke sank further and further into herself. Wells began to notice. She was quieter and hardly ever smiled. When he showed up at her door a night in May soaking wet she didn’t know what to say. He stopped her before she could speak, and he said three words to her, “I release you.” Clarke heart shuttered in her chest, questions flying on the tip of her tongue. Wells stopped her again before he began to speak, “You don’t love me. I know you tried and I know you probably think you might someday. Maybe if I was more selfish I’d keep you in the hope that one day you’d share the feelings for me that I have for you.” Tears pooled in Clarkes eyes, and for the first time she wished she could love Wells the way he wanted her too because he was good. He was the right choice, and she didn’t know why she couldn’t just let herself have him. “You don’t love me.” He states this like it’s a fact. “So please don’t marry me because that is what is expected of you. I won’t let you do this out of duty.” Wells has tears in his eyes now too when he says again, “I release you.”

The two stood staring at each other for a beat before Clarke launched into his arms, latching her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” She whispered to him, her voice still hoarse from her tears. She stepped back and Wells smiles at her. “Now get out of here. Leave. Go somewhere where your mother can’t reach you.”

Clarke took his advice. She packed her bag and left that night. She took her father’s car and drove all the way north to Inverness. Clarke can’t quite say what it was about this tiny village that made her want to stop more than the other ones she’d passed; it was like this place called to her and she can’t quite explain why. When she pulled the car to a stop beside Mrs. Birds Inn, it just felt right. It felt like maybe this place might be able to heal her.

When she asked for a single room Mrs. Bird looked at her curiously and then her eyes fell to Clarke’s bare finger. Clarke shifted nervously under her gaze, but the elderly women said nothing more on the subject and simply offered Clarke a room key. And that was that. Clarke had a room in a village surrounded by ancient hills and winds that seemed to whisper if you listened for too long.

****

***

****

****  


Clarke woke to the sun peeking through a slit in her drapes. She roused herself enough to get dressed and head out to check out this foreign town she had literally dropped into. An alarming sight met her eyes as she stepped off the front stoop of the Inn. All the doorways up and down the street, including the doorway of the inn, were slashed with blood. The sight was unsettling, Clarke felt her stomach twist at the sight flashbacks of bloodied bodies filling her mind.

****

“It’s the blood of a Black Cockrill.” Mrs. Bird tells Clarke as she too makes her way out and on to the street. Clarke follows after her, “But why?” She asks as she falls into step next to Mrs. Bird.

****

“It’s for Sallow. It’s like a pagan Halloween for you English folk. The blood keeps the ghosts away.” She smiles sweetly at Clarke. “There are festivities in the village tonight, and the Druids do a ceremony by Craigh Na Dun at dawn.”

****

“Druids?” Clarke almost laughs, “You mean like witches?”

****

Mrs. Bird gives Clarke a coy smile, “No, but there is a magic to them. If you watch the ceremony, you’ll see what I mean.” With a wink she’s crossing the street and heading for the market. “And Clarke?” Mrs. Bird calls over her shoulder, “you’ll want to be careful if you’re out at after dark tonight, the ghosts will be wondering free.” Clarke knows it’s silly but Mrs. Birds words made a shiver run up her back.

****

That night Clarke sets an alarm before heading to bed. Even though it’s ridiculous and a bit ludicrous that there were still Druids in the 20th century, something about Mrs. Birds words still resonates in her. Clarke decided she’ll never get any peace if she doesn’t see this ceremony for herself.

****

When her alarm goes off at 4am it’s still dark out, the morning lights of day haven’t yet pierced the unbreakable night. Clarke dresses in her favorite simple blue dress. She’d had it before the war. The fabric is soft after multiple washes, and it reminds her of the blue of her father’s eyes. The dress comes to her knee, she pairs it with a light brown belt and matching shoes before she pulls a blanket from the bed to use in case she gets cold and heads out to the car.

****

As she’s crossing the street towards her car she sees a man’s figure standing in the center of the town square. He’s looking right at her. He is tall with broad shoulders and he stands like he is bearing the weight of the world with him. She can make out that he is wearing pants, But the wrestle of his white top gives him the mark of someone not from this time. The darkness hides his face from Clarke’s view, but she gets the distinct impression that he is watching her, that he is here for her. Goosebumps cover Clarke’s skin and her hands become clammy. She is about to call out to the man but suddenly he turns away from her and disappears into the shadows.

****

Clarke blinks.

****

That’s impossible. He couldn’t possible disappear into the shadows. No he simply walked further into the darkness away from her, that is why she couldn’t see him. Yes, that had to be it. Clarke couldn’t open her mind to the opposite, to the possibility that he was…

****

Clarke shakes her head before she can finish that thought. No he was a regular man. That was the only possibility. She pulls open the door to her car and starts the engine.

****

According to her map Craigh Na Dun is an ancient rock circle. No one knows how the rocks got to where they are or why they are in a circle. Some say the rocks are as ancient as the hills they sit upon. Craigh Na Dun is a short drive outside of Inverness. Clarke pulls her car to the side of the road when she sees a sign pointing to an off road trail heading to Craigh Na Dun. She could drive up but she doesn’t want to scare off the Druids, this seems like the type of ceremony that is closed off to the public eyes. So Clarke pulls the blanket over her shoulders and starts the short hike through the woods and up the hill to Craigh Na dun. She settles on the cusp of the hill behind some bushes and watches the silent rocks.

****

Quietly and suddenly figures begin melt from within the forest. They step soundlessly out and into the center of the rocks right as dawn is about to kiss the country side. They’re each wearing primeval looking brown robes and carry what appears to be a lantern with a tiny flicking flame inside. Then as one the Druids begin to sing in a warbled mystical sounding language as they spin and dance around the stones.

****

What Clarke had intended to be a silly ritual suddenly paralyses her to the spot. She gets the distinct impression that she is witnessing something ancient, something that she should not be seeing. The hairs on her neck prickle as the Druids song grows louder and the moving figures dash and bound around each other as though their limbs are being compelled by some other mystery force. They continue to spin and blur so fast Clarke’s eyes can’t keep up with them, until suddenly they all stop and lift their lanterns to the sky as the first rays of dawn kiss the tops of the stones and bathe the world in light. As the light hits their still figures the Druids haunting song comes to an end. They blow out their lanterns and sweep back into the woods, almost like they were never there in the first place.

****

Clarke stays hidden in the bushes for quite a while before she dares to rise. Not until the hills are silent once more and the sun has risen quite high in the sky. When she does dare to leave her hiding spot she approaches the rock circles with caution. The rocks- and this place- have an energy about them that makes Clarke’s hackles rise.

****

Clarke is just investigating some flowers growing at the base of one of the stones when the world around her suddenly goes dark. Clarke turns her head to the sky, a thick pack of clouds has over taken the sun. Then the temperature around Clarke drops 10 degrees and the wind suddenly pick up around the stone circles. Clarke stands suddenly unsure what’s caused this change in the weather. As she does the wind suddenly whips through her hair and howls in her ears. One of the stones, the biggest one in the center of the circles appears to be calling her over. Clarke doesn’t know what it is inside her, but she listens. The wind whips harder and the sky grows darker, a buzzing fills Clarke’s ears. The blanket slips from Clarke’s shoulders as she holds out her hands towards the stone. The stones calls grow until Clarke places her hands flat against the cold rock.

****

The howling of the wind stops and for a breath the world goes silent and still. Then the spinning starts. Clarke can’t tell if it’s in her head or if the entire hill has started to turn like a merry go around. The wind is raging in her ears again, and suddenly its crashing down on her. Clarke blacks out or at least that what she thinks happens, because when she gasps awake she feels as though the air has been ripped form her lungs. She collapsed on the ground in front of the biggest stone, staring up at the grey sky. It’s quiet again, no howling wind, not dark clouds.

****

Silence.

****

Clarke stands on shaky legs still trying to find her bearings and make sense of what just happened. She stumbles down the hill trying to find the path back down to the road. But as she crashes through the woods and down the hill she finds no road. As though it had never existed. What the hell? Maybe she’d hit her head as she fell and now she was imagining things.

****

Clarke spins around as a figure darts through the trees. And then another to her left. And one up on the hill behind her. She recognizes a flash of red on their jackets and a glint of metal off of their muskets. _Had she stumbled on some period reenactment? How long had she been out? A few hours? A day?_

****

Suddenly a Red Coat soldier spins and aims his musket right at her. Clarke hears the pop of ammunition before she drops face first on to the ground. After a second she stands and turns to see a seared hole in the tree directly behind her. _What type of reenactment uses real ammunition?_ As she hears the voices of more soldiers she dashes into the woods. Running madly as branches slam against her face and rip at her arms.

****

In her madness Clarke breaks through the trees and comes upon a small clearing with a tiny stream running through the center of it. Crouched at the stream is a Red Coat officer. He is carrying a musket strapped to his back and a sword on his waist. He turns towards Clarke surprise highlighting his features. Then he seems to take in Clarke’s dress, which is now covered in speckles of mud and dirt, there are rips in the sleeves, and she’d lost both of her shoes in the mad dash through the woods. No time to stop and grab them.

****

The two stare at each other. Neither one quite sure what to make of the situation. The officer steps closer to Clarke. Up close he is quite handsome. His brown hair comes to shoulder length; he runs his hands through it flipping it from one side to the other.

****

As he takes another step towards her there is a smirk on his face that Clarke does not like. He reaches for her but this time Clarke backs away. He reaches again and this time Clarke stumbles falling back against the base of a ledge. It’s about 8 feet off the ground. Before Clarke can catch her footing to run the officer grabs her arm with one hands and with the other he slides his sword against he her throat. Not to hurt her, but if she moved it’d sure cut right through her throat.

****

“Who are you?” He demands. His fingers digging into her arm. When Clarke says nothing the man leers at her, there’s an unhinged edge to it that makes Clarke want to yelp. “I suppose a whore like yourself isn’t worth of a name then?” His breath fans over her face.

****

Clarke grinds her teeth, “I. Am. Not. A. Whore.” She spits the last word into his face. A flash crosses the soldier’s eyes before he’s dropped his sword and spun Clarke around in one fluid motion, her face smashed against the base of the cliff.

****

“You’re a feisty little bitch aren’t you?” He growls into her ear. He pulls up the back of Clarke’s dress, his hand moving to grab at her underwear. Clarke begins to scream and thrash against his hold, fighting back fiercely as she hears him unclasp his pants.

****

Suddenly there is a thump from behind her and the soldier’s grip on her arm falls away. Clarke spins to find another figure standing behind her, and the soldier from before splayed out on the ground, unmoving. The new man isn’t wearing a uniform, Clarke watches cautiously as he places his knife back in his waist band. He’s tall probably over six feet Clarke estimates, with broad shoulders and an olive tone to his skin that marks him as a foreigner. His hair is dark and curly, and as he steps closer into the light Clarke can see a light smatter of freckles on his face. He’s wearing black pants, with a white shirt tucked into them and a thick fur jacket. He looks more like a pirate than a highlander.

****

She wants to ask who he is, but instead she gestures to the fallen officer, “Is he dead?”

****

The man’s lip curls over into a sneer as he looks down at the fallen soldier “Unfortunately no.” Clarke wants to ask more questions but they hear the rustle of footsteps and Clarke catches a flash of red in the forest. More red coats. There’s no telling what they’d do if they catch her and this other man.

****

“Come on.” The boy grabs her hand and they run to the other side of the clearing where there are more trees to hide behind.

****

“Let go of me!” Clarke tries to yank her hand away but the man only grips her tighter. He pulls her down behind a tree with him. Clarke struggles under his touch, trying to pull away. The voices behind them become louder as a group of red coat soldiers enter the clearing and take in the crumpled body on the ground.

****

The man puts his hand over Clarke’s mouth to keep her from drawing attention to them. Clarke only glares at him and bites down on one of his fingers. “Christ woman!” The highlander yanks his hand away and glares back. He rubs a hand over his hurt finger, “I’m just trying to keep us both alive, princess!” he spits at her, his voice low enough to not alert the soldiers.

****

Clarke glares defiantly back at him, “I do not need to be muzzled.” She than turns away attention back on the clearing. The man still has his arm around her as they lie low under a bush. They stay silent until the red coats leave the clearing. Once the clearing is quiet again Clarke shrugs the highlander’s arm off of her. The man gets to his feet and offers a hand up to help Clarke. She ignores his hand and rises on her own, a fact that only makes the highlanders smirk grow.

****

“After you princess.” The man sweeps his hand towards the forest and Clarke steps forward unsure if there is a path or if they are just going to wonder through these woods endlessly. “Don’t call me th-” Clarke begins to tell him when stars explode in her vision and everything goes black.

****

********

***

********

**  
******  
  
  


The first thing Clarke becomes aware of is the sound of hooves and a jerking sensation. The second is that she is leaning against a very firm chest, and that there are arms wrapped around her waist.

****

Clarke’s head jerks up at first trying to pull away from the arms only to realize that she is sitting on the back of a horse. The man behind her chuckles as Clarke reluctantly sinks closer to him. “You knocked me out.” She says rigidly.

****

The man leans close to her and laughs, Clarke can feel his smile against her cheek “Couldn’t have you going off telling the red coats where we were heading. You could be a British spy, princess.”

****

Clarke scoffs at his comment. “You’re an idiot if you think I’m a British spy.”

****

The boy shakes his head, “I didn’t say you were. I just had to take precautions that’s all princess.” Clarke seethes through her teeth her lips forming a tight line. “Would you stop calling me that!” The man laughs again, little light puffs of air. “Well I would except that you never told me your real name so princess is the best thing I’ve got. Would you prefer honey, or bonne lass, I could do love if that helps?” Clarke can practically feel his smirk burning a hole in the back of her head.

****

Before she can dignify a response they come across a small thatched house. The highlander pulls their horse to a stop and ushers Clarke inside. The cottage isn’t that big. It’s a single room with a lit fireplace and a table. What really makes the place feel tiny are the six other highlander men already waiting inside. When they enter the men immediately rush to the highlander’s aid. It’s only now that Clarke sees him up close that she notices his dislocated shoulder. It’s a wonder he got her up on that horse, probably doing more harm to his shoulder in the process.

****

“Bellamy!” One of the other highlander’s yells as Bellamy half collapses onto a stool by the fireplace. Bellamy. Clarke tests the name out on her tongue. She decides that she likes the way it sounds. It certainly fits the man in front of her.

****

Once Bellamy is seated and upright the men turn their attention back to Clarke. “Who’s that?” The man who helped Bellamy onto the stool asks. He’s got dark skin, short cropped hair, and kind unwavering eyes.

****

Bellamy smiles at her though there is a flash of pain in his eyes, “I don’t know. I heard her screams and found Captain Collins assaulting her in the woods.” Clarke suddenly felt naked under all of their stares, not wanting to relive those awful moments in the forest. “She didn’t look like a whore.” He nods at her, “So I decided to take her with me. She put up quite a fight though, bit my finger when I tried to keep her quiet form the Red Coats.” He chuckles and the others join in most with raised eyebrows at Clarke. She’s not outwardly big or strong, it’s easy to assume she’s helpless.

****

“So what is your name then lass?” A man on the other side of the cabin steps towards Clarke. He’s older then all of the men here, possibly in his 40s. He’s got a scruffy beard and he looks at Clarke like she was a subject to be studied instead of a woman.

****

They all look at her expectantly, but it’s Bellamy’s stare that truly bores into her. “Clarke Griffin.” She finally says.

****

“Griffin? What type of a name is that?” A man across the cabin asks he’s got a lethal smirk on his face and a cunning appearance about him.

****

Clarke stares him down. “My father’s name.” She tells him bluntly, her tone hard. The man rises from his perch against the wall at her challenge.

****

“Leave her alone Murphy.” Bellamy says as the man- Murphy- leans back against the wall, but he doesn’t look happy about it. Clarke notices the way the men listen when Bellamy talks, the way he spoke to Murphy was definitely an order. Who was Bellamy?

****

“I’ve never seen a woman with such balls before.” The man who helped Bellamy says exasperated. “I’m Miller, this is Jasper,” He points to a lanky boy who barely looks a day over 16 he grins at her, “Sterling,” The man tips his head at Clarke happy to remain silent through the whole exchange, “and you’ve already met Murphy,” Murphy just glared at her. Miller points to the final man in the room, the oldest one. “This is Kane.” Kane bows to her, a gesture Clarke is not quite sure how to respond too. Clarke nods at all of them but chooses to remain silent, not quite sure how this situation is going to play out and also terrified she’ll give herself away.

****

The others turn their attention back to Bellamy and his dislocated arm. “You ready?” Kane asks and Bellamy nods. Miller and Sterling grab his injured arm. Clarke watches as Bellamy braces himself. But before anyone can move Clarke rushes forward.

****

“Don’t you dare touch him!” She shouts. They all turn to her with questioning looks including Bellamy. “You’ll break his arm if you do it like that” Clarke shoves Sterling and Miller out of the way. Both men are too shocked to stop her. “You have to line up the bone before you pop it back into place.” She takes another step towards Bellamy. “I’m a nurse,” she tells him before he nods and lets her examine his arm.

****

As Clarke maneuvers his arm, Bellamy’s jaw suddenly locks and he grunt through his teeth at the pain. Clarke nods at Miller “Hold him still.” It’s an order.

****

Murphy snorts, “never thought I’d see you ordered about by a woman, Nate.”

****

Miller glares across at Murphy but helps Clarke nonetheless. He puts his arm on Bellamy’s shoulders to hold the boy down. “Ready?” Clarke turns to Bellamy, who’s kept his eyes on Clarke the whole time, “Always.” He manages to grunt out.

****

Clarke snaps his shoulder back into place in one fluid motion, Bellamy lets out a groan and then it’s over. He gives an exasperated smile up at Clarke, “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He tells her. Clarke nods. “It will in a bit, you’ll need a sling.”

****

After that the other men begin packing up their supplies and readying to get back on their horses. “Where are we going?” Clarke asks Bellamy as he pulls her up with his good arm onto his horse. She’s situated in front of him again. “Castle Leoch.” He tells her, pride evident in his voice.

****

*******

****

****  


They ride through the night and into the next day. Clarke knees are soar from sitting on the horse but she dares not complain. They are crossing through a shallow patch of woods when the riding party suddenly comes to a stop. Her and Bellamy ride in the front next to Kane. Kane and Bellamy speak back and forth in a different language. Clarke isn’t quite sure what it’s called, it all sounds garbled to her. It hits her with a sudden realization that it sounds a lot like the language the Druids were using when they sang their song in the woods back at Craigh Na Dun.

****

Abruptly Kane lets out a low whistle and Bellamy spins their horse knocking Clarke to the ground in the process. She lands amongst a thicket. The highlanders take off on their horses. It’s only after they’ve left that Clarke notices the English soldiers following after the brigade of horses. _They left her behind_. Clarke rises from the thicket when she hears the pops of muskets, and takes off into the woods. She certainly wasn’t going to lie in the bushes like some helpless doll.

****

She’d been running for a while when she crosses back over a road, there in the center is Bellamy sitting on his horse watching her. He smirks at her “You sure can run can’t you princess?” He’s got blood on the front of his shirt staining it red and his sling is nowhere to be seen.

****

Clarke glares at him, “I wouldn’t have had to run if you hadn’t dumped me in a bush!”

****

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “I dumped you in a bush to keep you safe. You would have been cut to ribbons if you’d stayed on that horse with me.”

****

“Whatever.” Clarke says darkly but grabs his outstretched hand and pulls her body up onto the horse. Where else did she have to go? It was these highlanders or the mercy of the Red Coats.

****

“You’re bleeding.” She says awhile later, startling both of them out of their stony silence.

****

“You’ Worried about me m’ lady?” He retorts back. “You don’t have to be,” He leans down to whisper against her ear, “It’s not mine, well most’ve it isn’t anyway.” She turns to look him in the eye and he winks back. “D id pull my shoulder though,” Clarke see’s strain in his eyes as he tries to move his shoulder joint.

****

She snaps her head back around, “Serves you right! Engaging in combat with one arm in a sling! What were you thinking? You’ve probably pulled more muscles, if not caused more damage.” Clarke shakes her head, “You men are all the same, having to act the hero.”

****

Bellamy chuckles in her ear, “Didn’t think you cared this much princess.”

****

Clarke opens and closes her mouth several times before responding, “I don’t.” It does not sound as cold coming out as she wants it too. Before Bellamy can respond they come across the rest of their group already saddled on their horses and waiting.

****

With a nod from Bellamy to Miller the group was off riding into the country side once again. Clarke’s body ached from the jostling, her fall into the buses not to mention the strain her sprint through the buses put on her muscles hadn’t helped. But she again did not utter a word.

****

As evening turned into night and darkness fell upon the group so did a rain storm. It didn’t let up for hours. Clarke may have been able to keep her discomfort hidden before, but she couldn’t stop Bellamy from feeling her shivers or stop the goosebumps from rising on her arms.

****

“Here.” Bellamy says, his voice a bit gruff and strained from the pain in his shoulder. The group has stopped for a minute while Miller scouts the road up ahead. He’s pulled a knitted sweater out of his pack off supplies tied to the back of the saddle. It’s well warn, warm, and not yet touched by the rain. Clarke puts it on without hesitation. She knows the effects of hyperthermia, and would rather wear a stranger’s clothes than get them. Once it’s over her head she realizes it smells like him. It’s not an unpleasant smell either, in fact Clarke finds herself thinking she might even grow to like it- to want to be wrapped up in this smell all the time. “Thank you.” Clarke says after minute, she’s even so bold as to push further against his chest, the warmth a high temptation. Bellamy responds by tightening his hold on her waist. “If you were cold, all you needed to do was ask.” He tells her, his voice gruffer than the last time he spoke.

****

Clarke turns to look at him but feel’s his hold on her waist drop, and the next thing she knows, Bellamy has collapsed off the horse. He lands on the ground in a crumpled heap.

****

“Help!” Clarke yells, “He’s collapsed!” The rest of the group turn to look at her strangely. But she’s already swung herself off the horse and landed by his side. Jasper rushes over as well and helps her roll Bellamy onto his back. Then she notices the amount of blood seeping from a wound on her shoulder. The blood he’d said wasn’t his from before had spread infinitely over his shirt. He was going to bleed out if Clarke didn’t act quickly.

****

The rest of the group had crowded around her and Bellamy. Clarke noticed Miller off to the side, probably just arrived from his scouting mission.

****

“What can we do?” It’s Kane who asks her as Clarke probes at the wound.

****

“It’s a gun shot, gone clean through which is good.” She nods to herself, she’s seen much worse. “I’ll need something to disinfect the wound. Do you have anything to stop germs?” She looks around wildly at the group of men.

****

“Germs?” Their faces twist up in confusion, echoing the word as though it were foreign on their tongues. “Yes!” Clarke presses harder on the wound trying to stifles the blood flow.

****

Clarke tried to think. If she’s in fact traveled back in time, and that ‘if’ was growing slimmer and slimmer by the minute than she was in some foreign past century where the concept of germs and disinfectant had yet to be invented or heard about. “What about alcohol?” Surly one of the men carries a bottle on him. Sure enough each man presented a flask from their pockets. Clarke grabbed at Murphy’s gingerly pouring the contents onto the wound. Bellamy surged forward suddenly, the sting of the alcohol bringing him back to consciousness. His eyes were wild as he thrashed under her.

****

Clarke rested a hand on his cheek to calm him, “Hey, hey,” she whispered down at him her voice softer. “You were bleeding out from a wound in your shoulder, I used some alcohol to clean the wound. You’re going to be all right.” Bellamy soothes under her touch and by her words.

****

“I need some clean bandages or cloth!” She barks at the other. When none offer her anything other than blank stares she lets out a string of curse words under her breath and rips at the hem of her dress. “This will just have to bloody well do until I get somewhere to properly stitch it up and bind the wound.” The others are shocked to silence, that includes Bellamy, whether it be her slew of curse words or the rather drastic ripping of her dress she hardly knows or cares.

****

Clarke begins to tie up the wound, knotting up pieces from her dress, Bellamy grunts under her. “When can he be ready to leave?” Kane finally asks, the others have dispersed but Kane and Miller have stayed close by. Clarke suspects because they don’t trust her not to try and kill Bellamy as soon as their backs are turned.

****

“He needs rest.” Is Clarke’s only response. Kane simply snorts at her answer the only mark he heard her at all. “He has until you finish wrapping up his wound. These roads are dangerous at night especially with Red Coats afoot.” Then he stomps off to check on his own horse. Miller nods at Clarke and steps back a small distance leaving her and Bellamy relatively alone.

****

When Clarke turns back to Bellamy she finds him already staring at her. “Never seen a women order the men around like that.” That makes her smile a bit, “It’s good for them, teaches them some manners.” He winks feebly at her. Clarke can tell he is in a great amount of pain but unwilling to show her the full extent.

****

“Why didn’t you tell me you were this injured?” She asks him, “I could have helped hours ago.”

****

Bellamy just shakes his head, groaning as she helps him stand. “It didn’t hurt too badly until a little while ago. Didn’t want to trouble you princess.” She’d call him out on the princess remark if he wasn’t clearly nearly delirious with pain.

****

Clarke shakes her head at him and heads towards the horse, “I’d call you an idiot, but I’m sure you already know that yourself.” She points her finger at his chest, “next time I hear about injuries as soon as they happen.”

****

Bellamy smiles quietly at her grabbing hold of her outstretched hand, “So there will be a next time then?”

****

Clarke snots, “Undoubtable with men like you lot.” Clarke pats the saddle, “Come on soldier, up you go.” Bellamy huffs out a laugh, it’s weak but it’s there.

****

Bellamy swings up onto the horse with considerable effort, Clarke’s surprised he’s able to maintain his balance. Clarke’s still wearing his sweater, she hugs it closer to herself as a chill gust’s through the trees. Bellamy offers a hand down to her, “my lady?” Clarke grabs hold, his grip strong and yet gentle at the same time. With his help she swings up on the horse and they are off once again.

****

This time Clarke doesn’t mind a bit when Bellamy tugs her back against his chest, or the feeling of his thighs encasing her own. Being with him puts a strange amount of ease in her, heat pools in her belly.

****

The rest of the trip goes by without incident. They ride through the night the rain only letting up a few hours before dawn. Clarke is still soaked to the bone when the first rays of light kiss the high hills. She may be damp but she’s not shivering like before. Clarke has pressed her body back against Bellamy’s firm chest so far that he practically encases her. He’s like a furnace; heat just radiates off of him warming her to the core. Bellamy doesn’t seem to mind either. In their hours of riding he rotates between resting his head on top of hers, and relaxing it on her shoulder. The third time he does the latter Clarke inclines her head giving him more room, which Bellamy greatly takes advantage of. At one point she swears she feels him nuzzle her hair slightly, but she dismisses that thought as quickly as it occurs.

****

It’s a strange comfort to be in his arms. She’s not normally this open to intimate contact with strangers. But he had rescued her from the red coats on multiple occasions within the last few days, and she had saved his life in return. There was no denying that a connection had been struck between the two. Still the knowing looks the other men in their party were throwing her and Bellamy’s way as they rode made her cheeks flush, but she didn’t pull away from Bellamy either. _What did that mean?_ Clarke didn’t have time to ponder it.

****

As the hours dragged on Clarke began to think they were never going to reach their destination. That they would just ride on forever. She leaned further back into Bellamy, her eyelids growing heavy. She was tired and hadn’t really slept in over four days, she turned and pressed her face into Bellamy’s neck. “Sleep now Clarke,” his soft words were gravely in her ear, “You’ll be safe with me.” She was out cold in a heartbeat, the sounds of Bellamy’s breaths lulling her to sleep.

****

*******

****

****  


Clarke awoke to a tug on one of her curls. She jolted only slightly, coming back to her senses. They were still on the road, and her face was still pressed against Bellamy’s neck, she breathed in his scent one last time before pulling away and sitting up straight. She looked around still dazed from sleep. “How long was I out?”

****

She could feel Bellamy’s smile when he answered her, “Only a few hours. I would’ve let you sleep longer but-” He nudged her shoulder and nodded to the road ahead of them. There peeking out against the vast rolling green hills stood a towering castle. The closer their party moved the more fearsome the castle became; “-we’ve almost arrived.”

****

Clarke felt a twist in her gut. Maybe it was the towering walls of grey stone or the centuries on top with their muskets, but the castle did not give off a welcoming face. _How was she going to pull this off?_ If she wasn’t carful they’d probably renounce her as a raving lunatic and burn her at the stake. But Bellamy’s voice shone with pride when he leaned down next to her ear and uttered his next words to her, “Welcome to Castle Leoch.”

****

The fearsome impression she’d gotten from outside the castle did not reflect the sight she was met with on the inside. People bustled about, completing tasks and laughing loudly with one another. Children ran in and out of horse’s legs chasing each other with sticks meant to be swords. The mood surrounding this part of the castle was happy, it made the weight on Clarke’s chest lighten. As their group moved further into the interior people’s attention was pulled in their direction. Conversations stopped and word ceased as people suddenly rushed towards their little group with smiles on their faces. Some clapped and others whistled. It startled Clarke how many people were watching Bellamy, many of them reached up to grab at his arms and hands.

****

Bellamy pulled their horse to a stop, as did the rest of their party. He swung down off the horse and then turned and helped Clarke down. No sooner had her feet hit the ground when a blur of colors rushed passed Clarke latched itself onto Bellamy. “Bellamy!” The girl called out happily to him. Bellamy laughed as he picked her up off the ground and spun her around. The girl had skin similar to the colour of Bellamy’s with long thick brown hair partially pulled back in a red ribbon, Clarke could make out tiny elaborate braids woven into her hair as well. She was quite beautiful, Clarke had to admit. Some part of her raged against their encounter.

****

Bellamy and the girl smiled at each other before he let her go and turned towards Clarke. “Princess this is my sister Octavia.” Octavia’s eyes widened at his words, “A PRINCESS?” She practically screamed.

****

Clarke only rolled her eyes, “I’m not really. Your brother just seems inclined to call me that.” She sticks out her hand, “I’m Clarke Griffin.” Octavia throws Bellamy a disbelieving look before ignoring Clarke’s outstretched hand and pulling her into a hug.

****

“It’s good to meet you.” Octavia throws a coy look Bellamy’s way, “It’s not every day my brother brings a beautiful woman home with him.”

****

“O…” Bellamy warns. But before he can get her in trouble Octavia winks at him and spins on her heel heading towards the main entrance into the castle. “Welcome home my lord.” She calls over her shoulder before disappearing into a corridor.

****

_Lord?_ Clarkes head spins and her eyes widen as she takes in Octavia’s words. She whirls on Bellamy, “You didn’t think to tell me you were a lord! A practical king!”

****

Bellamy wrinkles his nose, “I don’t normally use my title to impose rank.” He runs a hand through his hair, “True this whole castle and the surrounding lands belong to me and my family. But I see these people not as subjects or servants but as friends.” He turns to face her, “You will be my guest here if you wish.” He reaches out to grab her hand rubbing his thumb along her skin, “No one here shall hurt you so long as you are with me.” Clarke gulps, the heat in his eyes when he looks at her is almost too much to bear. The emotion seeping through his expression coupled with his hand in hers makes Clarke’s throat close up. She manages a small nod to acknowledge his words.

****

Clarke is thankful when Bellamy finally drops her hand and turns away. He signals over to a girl roughly Clarke’s age standing across the courtyard. She rushes over at his call, and looks expectantly between the two of them. “Clarke this is Harper. She is going to show you to a room and get you some new clothing.” Harper nods at Bellamy and smiles over at Clarke before inclining her head towards the same corridor Octavia disappeared into.

****

“Harper?” Bellamy calls when they are a few paces away from him, “give her a guest room in my wing.” Harper pauses only slightly before nodding a coy smile snaking its way onto her face, a look Clarke catches easily. She doesn’t let herself think too far into Bellamy’s words. He had said she was a guest, _was he giving her special treatment because she’d saved his life?_

****

She took a deep breath before descending after Harper into the door corridors of the palace. She still wasn’t quite sure what year she’d ended up in, or where she stood with Bellamy, she would have to tread carefully from now on out. In the last few days she’d fallen through time, been assaulted, ran from the clutches of Red Coats not once but twice, and saved the life of a very alluring Lord, and still Clarke couldn’t help but feel as through her journey had just begun.

****


	2. Impulses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke starts her new life at the castle, where her and Bellamy grow closer. The gathering occurs at Castle Leoch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was suppose to have this chapter out DAYS ago but midterms caught up to me, and the chapter ended up being WAY WAY WAY longer than expected. Enjoy it!

As it turns out a lot of work goes into dressing in a suitable manner for a woman. There are layers upon layers of clothes along with a corset that Clarke initially cringed at. She sucked in a shocked breath when Harper suddenly tightened the strings pushing Clarke’s breasts up and pulling at her ribcage. The outer layer of her dress folded over her corset and the layers of her shift. But they time she had finished washing, dressing, and allowing Harper to style her hair, it was time for dinner.

Clarke examined herself a final time in a full length mirror Harper had set up in her room. The outer layer of her dress was made of a light blue velvet with vines of silver and white string to embroider the shirt. The vines wind their way up her skirt and on to the bodice of her dress. The material was think, meant to keep her warm in the damp highland weather. The dress encompassed long sleeves that puffed out at her shoulders and reached to her elbow. It was probably the prettiest thing she had ever seen, even if it was uncomfortable and she felt stiff moving throughout her room.

Harper had pinned her blonde curls into a simple up-do. The pearl pins in her hair gave off a kind of romantic effect. Harper stepped back nodding to herself, clearly happy with her handiwork. She gave Clarke one more spin before announcing that she was ready to head down to dinner with the Lord. Clarke could feel flutters in her stomach, it was one thing when Bellamy was just an injured man who saved her life, now he was the lord. Everyone would be watching- watching her- very closely. Clarke had only a small idea of period politics, the first step to acclimatizing to this place was to get through this dinner.

Harper began to lead Clarke through the maze of castle corridors. Clarke tried to memorize where to turn when but after while all the corridors looked the same. Making a mental map of this place was like trying to solve a maze. Clarke envied Harper who moved through the castle with sure hurried movements, _she looks like she belongs here_. Clarke feared she might never belong anywhere ever again.

They came to a sudden stop at a wide arch open to the main hall. Clarke could tell where they were by the noise emulating from the room. Harper stepped aside to let Clarke pass. Clarke suddenly felt unsure of herself. She falters around the corner from the main hall, hugging the castle wall to avoid the people on the other side of it.

She looked nervously over at Harper, “Won’t you be coming in with me?” The other girl simply shook her head, “I dine in the kitchens with Mrs. Kane.” Harper nodded towards the main hall and then left, giving Clarke’s arm a quick squeeze as she passed. Clarke put a hand to her rushing chest. She could do this. It was only dinner after all. She’d spent three days on a horse with Bellamy, she could survive one dinner. She rested her head against the cool stone of the wall. _One dinner_.

With a heaving sigh Clarke pushed off the wall, rounded the corner and stepped uncertainly into the main hall. It was packed with people. Long tables stood to her left and her right forming a type of isle towards the Lord’s table in the back of the hall. Bellamy’s table sat horizontal looking out at all the others. Miller, Kane and Octavia sat with him, but the seat directly to his left was empty.

Clarke was halfway to Bellamy when other people in the room began to notice her. Conversations silenced as she passed, people looked up at her with inquisitive gazes- trying to figure out what to make of her no doubt. They were watching her, judging her. There could be no missteps. No faltering. Clarke kept her chin raised, she could at least try to give off a sense of confidence.

Clarke bowed when she came to Bellamy’s table mostly because that’s what they did in movies, which was really her only reference point. Bellamy’s eyes were sultry when they looked at her, she kept his eye contact as she bent down low into a curtsy. Something dark flashed in his eyes when he took in her figure in the dress, a teasing smile forming on his lips. But he stood from his seat and pulled back to the empty one directly to his left. Clarke took this as her cue and walked around the table taking a seat at his side. He was still looking at her with that impish smile. It was starting worry her. She checked at the folds of her dress trying to discern if anything was out of order.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She quipped under her breath at him, people around the room were still watching their interactions.

A flush rose in Bellamy’s cheeks at her words, another flash in his eyes before he smoothed over his expression, “I’m sorry- it’s just that… well you look like a proper lady in that dress.” He was laughing at her, that fact Clarke was sure of.

“Is this not how I’m supposed to dress?” She jibed back at him, her words held no heat though, a smile similar to his snaking its way onto her face. She leaned in closer to him, “Tell me Lord Bellamy, how is a lady supposed to dress in your opinion?” She held his eye, eyebrow raised in question, hand landing on his arm, close enough that she could kiss him if she pleased. For a few seconds they simply stared at each other, Bellamy’s eyes flitted down to Clarke’s lips. He leaned closer. Just the smallest millimeter, before he seemed to remember where they were. Bellamy cleared his throat pulling away from her, Clarke let her hand drop onto the table top.

“However she pleases to dress.” He tells her, his voice taking on a deep husk.

Clarke blinks lost in his eyes. She’d completely forgotten that she’d asked him a question.

Wisely Clarke keeps her distance from him throughout the rest of the meal. He was too much of a temptation to her. Bellamy it seems does the same. They were in a public place they couldn’t let their emotions get the best of them. Octavia had noticed their little bit of flirting, she grinned like a tiger down at the two of them. Clarke caught some of the looks but wisely kept her eyes focused on her drink.

She hadn’t been sitting for more than ten minutes when the seat to her left was pulled back. Slumping down into the chair was a grime covered woman. She wore overalls and a white undershirt, though it looked more grey and was stained with grease and sweat. She pulled off her work gloves and slammed down on the table top next to her plate. Then she turned and aimed a lethal smirk at Clarke.

“Raven Reyes,” she held out a dirt smattered palm, “resident engineer and the best damn blacksmith in all of Scotland.” Clarke shook her hand, eyebrows raised at this women’s boldness. She had a ‘give em’ hell’ attitude and a ‘don’t care what you think’ image. Clarke like it-she liked her.

“Less than a minute in and your already boasting Reyes.” Bellamy joked from over Clarke’s shoulder, “That’s got to be some type of record.”

Raven laughed, “Just because you got some headway saving the princess’s life and all, doesn’t mean I can’t try and catch up anyway I know how.” She winked at Clarke, and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh because really this girl was beautiful and she rose to Bellamy’s challenge.

“What race?” Clarke swiveled her head between the two, both wearing identical smirks. Clarke raised her wine glass to her lips, trying to avoid looking either of them in the eye.

Raven wiggled her eyebrows at Clarke, and licked her lips her eyes glancing down at the top of Clarke’s exposed chest, “The race for your heart princess.”

Clarke nearly chocked on her drink. THAT had not been what she was expecting to come out of the other woman’s mouth. Clarke shook her head, surveying the rest of the room “You’re both ridiculous.”

Raven seemed to study her for a moment, “hmm,” she began, “don’t tell me someone’s already got your heart?” That statement drew Bellamy’s full attention to Clarke.

This time Clarke chuckled, “No not at the moment.” An image of Well’s face swam through her mind, Clarke banished it as soon as it surfaced. She didn’t love Wells; he’d never excited her in the way just being close to Bellamy did. “Maybe if we’d had more time.” She added before taking another sip of wine, willing to alcohol to push thoughts of Wells from her mind.

Before either Bellamy or Raven could press further on the subject, Clarke switched their conversation into a much safer territory. She turned to Bellamy “How is your shoulder? I really do need to look at your wound.” If he noticed the sudden switch away from her personal life, he didn’t mention it. She got the feeling he was good at that- at not mentioning things.

“It still hurts when I move it.” He told her truthfully. She was glad she wouldn’t have to bully a real answer out of him.

“I want to stitch it up properly and boil some bandages to wrap it up cleanly.” She tells him, switching into medical mode. Bellamy was a patient she had a see too, albeit one with broad shoulders, tantalizing eyes, and a really beautiful mouth.

Bellamy nodded, “Ok after dinner. We can go to my room. I’ll have Mrs. Kane prepare some things to boil bandages.”

After that dinner went off without a hitch. Raven left a few minutes later, taking a flask of port with her. Clarke raised her eyebrow but said nothing more. Several different servants and soldiers came up to Bellamy throughout dinner to speak about one pressing matter or another. Mostly it was shift changes and core grievances. Nothing too serious. Bellamy seemed exhausted by the time he got a minute’s piece to eat. He looked over at Clarke’s empty plate, “Ready to go?” 

They left together, an act that drew more than one curious glance throughout the room. Clarke felt better once they were out of the main hall and in Bellamy’s personal wing, less eyes to stare and gawk at them. They passed the doors to her room and continued down the hall to a set of wide oak doors. Bellamy pushed and them opened effortlessly.

Bellamy’s room was overly simple compared to what she had imagined in her head. There was a bed by the door. A set of bay windows beyond the bed that faced the forest, a fireplace directly in front of the entrance, and a small table with chairs occupying the space right of the door. The table was stacked high with books, and there was a set of selves built into the wall next to the fire place that was also over spilling with different volumes. Clarke ran her hand across the leather spines as she circled the room. She recognized a few book titles, but most pertained to ancient myths and stories. Clarke turned eyebrow raised as she pulled a copy of The Iliad off of one of the shelves, she traced the letters on the cover with her finger. She held the book up to Bellamy who had taken a seat on a stool in front of the fire place.

He seemed nervous to have her here with him in his room. Clarke’s eyes settled briefly on the bed to her left before flitting back to meet Bellamy’s. She held the book up before the idea of him and his bed could distract her beyond escape.

“My mother used to read me the stories when I was a child.” There was something sad in his voice, something only true loss could bring about.

Clarke turned back to the table and placed to book on top of one of the stacks of others. “I wouldn’t have thought a boy from the highlands would be very interest in ancient Greece.” Clarke inspected the boiling pot before placing a few cotton bandages into the steaming water. It was quiet for a moment as both of them watched the bubbling pot, Clarke was starting think Bellamy hadn’t heard her speak. When she turned to look at him, his eyes were already on hers. His brown eyes searched hers, for something she didn’t know what, maybe he was trying to decide if he trusted her? Whatever Bellamy was looking for he found, and when he spoke next Clarke knew it was the absolute truth.

“I wasn’t born here. I’m from someplace…else.” Bellamy picked at the wood on the stool, “someplace further south. My mother used to read me the stories when I was a child to help me sleep at night.” He smiled painfully across at Clarke, “although some of the stories gave me more nightmares instead of lessening them.” Clarke smiled softly back at him, she liked when he spoke to her like this, without title or formality, like it was just the two of them back on his horse riding through the forest.

“After my mother died, Octavia and I had nowhere to go so we just hopped on a boat and went North, eventually ending up here.” His voice was softer now, less pained than before. Clarke couldn’t help but think about her own drive north to Inverness, she’d been running from her old life too, just as Bellamy and Octavia had been searching for a fresh start, in a way so had she. “We were looking for a place to belong, a place that called to us.”

Clarke thought of Inverness, that strange highland town with hills that whispered to her. Something about that place- about the highlands- had called to her too. It had made her pull her car over and rent out a room at Mrs. Bird’s Inn. Maybe that same call had been heard by Bellamy and Octavia too.

“The hills and mist here have a power, I think, that can be impossible to ignore for some.” Clarke offered as she fished through the boiling pot with a spoon to try and grasp at a bandage.

Bellamy quirked an eyebrow at her, “You mean yourself then?” Clarke nodded absently as she continued to stir the pot. There was something about this dark room, and the light of the fire casting shadows along the walls that made Clarke consider for a second telling him everything, just so that she had someone else to share in this secret with her. “These are ready.” She said instead. It was easier, she told herself, if he didn’t know- at least not yet.

When Clarke turned back to him Bellamy had already shrugged off his shirt. Clarke tried not to stare, her mouth going dry at his naked chest. With the low light coming from the fire she could made out the hard muscles of his abdomen, and the vast planes of his chest still peppered lightly with freckles. She’d known he was strong from their ride together, but she’d never let herself really look at his figure before. He was beautiful. The room around Clarke suddenly felt very hot and condensed. She found herself unable to look at him for too long. If Bellamy noticed Clarke’s stares he didn’t voice anything aloud but his eyes told her enough. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

Instead of letting herself gawk at him unabashed Clarke focused in on his wound, that was after all the whole reason she was here. The wound didn’t show any signs of infection and had started to heal itself on its own. Clarke hummed under her breath while she poked and prodded at it.

“What is that tune? It’s beautiful.” Bellamy’s rough voice snapped Clarke out of her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized she’d been humming aloud. “Oh…” Clarke startled for a second, pausing only to figure out how much she wanted to tell him, “My father used to sing it to me when I was small.” Memories of her father waltzing her through their living room with Clarke standing on his feet because she didn’t know the moves yet, flooded through her mind. She missed him dearly.

“We used to dance to it together,” Clarke movements tying bandages to Bellamy’s shoulder faltered for a moment. “He’d laugh whenever I stepped on his foot.” She could almost hear her father’s laugh echoing through the room.

“Is he dead?” Bellamy asked after noticing Clarke’s stilled hands. He reached up and covered her hands with his. The gesture was enough to pull Clarke from her reprieve. A sole tear slid free down her cheek.

“He’s gone.” Bellamy wiped the tear away with his finger, his hand resting on her cheek. Clarke leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“I’m sorry about your father.” He tells her after a while, not wanting to break this fragile moment that hung between them.

Clarke opened her eyes and they locked instantly with his. There was a sadness in her eyes that matched his. Even with that weight she still managed a small smile up at him. “I’m sorry about your mother.” This time Bellamy returned that smile his eyes turning soft as the two continued to stare at each other.

Clarke stood abruptly, pulling away from him. Bellamy let his hand drop from her cheek as she stood. She cleared her throat before speaking, her head suddenly felt very dizzy, her thought muddled under his gaze. “I’m done wrapping the wound.” She tells him as she moved towards the door, “I’ll have to check on for the next few days but it looks good.”

She pulled open the door without once looking back at him. But Bellamy was faster, he crossed the room before she could slip through the door.

“Clarke wait!” He grabbed her arm, holding her at the threshold of his room. Her gaze flickered down to his hand, she could feel the heat from it radiating through the fabric of her dress. Bellamy let his hand drop, suddenly he seemed unsure of himself, “Just...ah…thank you.” He managed to get out quite sheepishly, his gaze on their shoes.

Clarke reached down and squeezed his hand, she smiled at the shock echoing on Bellamy’s face, she was not normally the one to initiate the contact.

“Anything for the Lord.” She said rather mockingly. Bellamy let out a low laugh. After all they had said to each other tonight it felt strange to laugh. Clarke joined him, giggling for no reason other than the fact that he had an amazing smile. Bellamy grinned back down at her.

“Goodnight Bellamy.” She said softly letting his name slip tenderly out of her mouth.

“Goodnight Clarke.” He whispered to her, his voice fond and gentle. He let their hands drop, Clarke had to stop herself from reaching for his hand again.

It was only after Clarke had closed the door to her room was she fully able to breathe again. She took deep breaths trying to rid the heated flush from her cheeks. Her smile however stayed in place, even after she’d fallen asleep.

*******

Clarke spent the next two weeks exploring the castle grounds. She was determined to form a mental map of every inch of the castle. She spent days roaming the halls and passage ways seeing where they connected to each other and noting all the dead ends. By the end of the two weeks she was confident in directions that she knew every in and out of the castle. That was except for the locked door off of the kitchens, she wasn’t quite sure where that lead to.

She alternated between wondering the halls and visiting Raven in the forge, where the brunette was always working on one project or another. She liked Raven’s sass as she called out the other male blacksmith’s mistakes.

Clarke was starting to learn her place here, she liked falling into a routine, she just wished there was more for her to do to help. Raven wouldn’t dare let her help, and every time Clarke went down to the kitchens she was shooed out by Mrs. Kane and Harper. Learning the castle was nessicary but now she wanted to do something else to fill her days, something that helped people here. Something that might make her feel like she belonged.

The dinners with Bellamy had become routine too. Every night she waltzed into the main hall and sat at the empty seat to his left. He’d tell her about his day, and she’d tell him about hers. It was nice and sort of domesticated. She’d share stories about Raven and other run-ins she had with people at the castle that would make him laugh so hard she was sure his cheeks hurt. Sometimes he’d rant about the pressures of being Lord, or some stupid complaint that had been brought to his attention. She’d laugh at the scowl that would take over his face.

But her favorite part about dinner had to be when Bellamy told one of his stories. Sometimes as people emptied out of the main hall, Bellamy would pull up a stool in the middle of the hall and start to tell stories of the Greek legends. The kids loved it- Clarke had to admit she did too. As soon as he sat down, kids were crowding around him eager to hear a new story. Even though she was stuck centuries in the past, somethings she recognized from her world were still present here. Bellamy was a very gifted story teller, his words captivating everyone who listened. Sometimes they were the best part of her day.

Tonight as she slid into her seat next to his at their long table she let out a sigh, resting her head on her hands. Bellamy cocked a smile at her in greeting, “long day?” He asked.

Clarke huffed, “No, just a boring day.” She glared down at the fabric of her dress.

The dresses. That was something Clarke had still not gotten used to. The sheer amount of time it took just to get ready in the mornings annoyed her to no end. That along with how stifling and hot the dress became when she tried to do anything. She still felt stiff as she moved around, never quite getting used to her ribcage being restrained by the corset. She scowled down at her dress, wanting nothing more than to rip it off.

“If I have to wear a corset for another day I may go crazy.”

Bellamy laughed at her as he ate a piece of boar meat. “Then don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Bellamy rolled his eyes at her, “princess rules on clothing really aren’t enforced here.” He nodded towards Raven who was sitting at the long table to their right, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Reyes in a dress. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen Harper out of one.” Bellamy shrugged, “people wear what they want.”

Clarke leaned back against her chair smiling to herself, “Well, in that case I demand pants.”

Bellamy barked a laugh, “Harper and Mrs. Kane will have a heart attack! A lady guest of the Lord tramping about in trousers!”

“All the more reason to do it.” Clarke winked at him as she leaned forward to take another sip of wine.

Bellamy shook his head, still laughing, “What the princess wants, she shall receive.” Clarke nodded at him. Good.

As they finished dinner Bellamy bowed, a playful smile on his face and offered her his arm, “Care for a walk my lady?” He asked mocking an accent to match hers.

Clarke giggled her cheeks pink, “Of course my Lord.” She curtsied before linking her arm through his. Bellamy grinned back at her. For a moment Clarke forgot that he was a Lord who had a whole clan of people to protect. Right now he was just her Bellamy, they were normal people sharing a moment together.

Bellamy lead them through the castle, they wondered aimlessly for a while. They had stopped by the kitchen when Clarke finally asked; “So why all this formality?”

Bellamy winked at her, he changed his voice to a butchered posh accent wiggling his eyebrows at her, “Isn’t this how gentleman in England act around a beautiful lady?” He twirled her as they rounded the corner passing the kitchens.

Clarke snorted, “Hardly. At least none with that ridiculous accent.” She poked his shoulder playfully. Bellamy’s grin widened as he spun Clarke around again causing a giggle to escape her lips.

Clarke’s giggle quieted suddenly as they passed that locked door, the only one she had yet to explore. “Where does that go?” She gestured to the door.

Bellamy crooked his head at her, “To the surgery.”

Clarke’s brow scrunched up, “the surgery?” She’d never heard of a place like that before.

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, “Yes the quarters of the castle healer.”

“The castle has a healer?” Why was she never introduced to them? Maybe this was her way to help.

“Well…” Bellamy sighed, “Our old healer Nyko died a few years ago. We never found someone to fill the position.”

A smile spread over Clarkes face. This what she would do here, it beat needle point practice with Mrs. Kane.

“Well you just hired yourself a healer.” She declared proudly, excited at the prospect of having something to do.

Bellamy just shook his head at her in wonderment, “How the hell did I get so lucky in finding you?” He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Clarke smiled wider, “So that’s a yes then?”

“How could I say no to a princess?” He managed to say before Clarke through her arms around him. Bellamy was too stunned to move for a second. Eventually his mind began to work as he wound his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground. Clarke let out a shocked laugh as he spun her through the air.

“A healer is kind of nessicary.” He told her as he placed her feet back on firm ground, “It’ll be good to have one with the gathering coming up.”

“The gathering?” Clarke’s head was still slightly dizzy from all the spinning, she blamed the wine she drank at dinner.

Bellamy nodded as they resumed their walk, “All the clans man come to Castle Leoch to pledge their alliance to me. It’s pretty much just a three-day feast. Lots of dancing, drinking, and eating.” Bellamy smirked, “We’ll need a healer around to deal with all the drunk lad’s stupidity.”

Clarke grinned back, “I’m sure I’ll have my hands full.”

*******

As the days and weeks flew by, Clarke became less and less concerned with her old life. Her life at the castle was all she could contend with at the moment. As she learned her healer duties she found out two reasons why no one wanted the job. One, because the surgery was in the stuffy dust filled basement of the castle- a place only a hermit could like. And second, because Scotts were notoriously bad at listening to her instructions if she didn’t hit them over the head first.

With the gathering approaching, and Nyko’s stores of herbs dangerously low, Clarke decided a trip to the gardens was in order. She had a general knowledge of plants from Herbology books of her mother’s that she’d read, that coupled with Nyko’s own notes she felt comfortable identifying plants for the stores and using them to help people.

The gardens were outside the castle walls; Clarke had only been once on a casual stroll with Octavia during her first week at the castle. She hadn’t left the gates since. It wasn’t a long walk, and these herbs were crucial.

It was brisk that morning as she strode confidently through the castle gates. The sun was peeking through the clouds for once. Clarke took a deep inhale of the highland air. She was in a good mood as she passed through the gates waving a goodbye at Raven on her way out. “Try not to get lost Griffin, I don’t want to have to search the woods at night for you!” Clarke responded with a rude gesture, a smile stretched so big on her face she wondered if it would ever go away.

Clarke was so busy pulling up some mushrooms at the corner of the garden that she didn’t hear when someone else came upon the community garden.

“Those kind are poison.” A voice pulled Clarke from her own thoughts startling her enough to fall backwards onto her ass. She turned around as a giggle arose from the speaker. It was a woman with locks of thick, pin straight blonde hair framing her face like some type of model in a store front. She had light skin, as though it had never been touched by the rays of the sun. She had green eyes, even though she was laughing at Clarke’s fall, her eyes held a haunted look about them. She seemed harmless, but Clarke knew this woman was anything but. She kneeled in the garden, her basket already full of herbs watching Clarke speculatively.

“I’m sorry,” the women said, “I did not mean to laugh.” She held her hand up to her mouth to try and cover her spreading smile as Clarke rubbed the dirt off her ass from her fall.

Clarke stood sticking the mushrooms into her basket, “Thanks for the warning, but I do know that the mushrooms are poisonous.” She set her basket down next to this strange women, who looked positively mirthful at Clarke.

“Who are you trying to do away with then?” A smirk spread on the woman’s face, “Your husband perhaps?” She winked at Clarke, “tell me if it works and I’ll try it on mine.”

That earned a smile out of Clarke as she held up a very bare left hand for the woman to see, “No husband.” The other woman nodded at her, gleeful smile still in place, “The caps of the mushrooms are poisonous, but if you make a powder out of the dried fungi and apply it topically it’s very good at stopping bleeding.”

“Well fancy that.” The women flattened her skirts before leaning down to pick at another herb, “I’m Glass. I live down in the village.”

“Oh I’m sorry I should have introduced myself. I’m-” But before Clarke could finish her introduction, Glass cut her off, “-I know who you are Clarke. The whole village has been talking about the new princess at castle Leoch.”

Clarke rolled her eyes already expecting the worst, “What is it their saying about me then?”

Glass raised an eyebrow at Clarke, “Well that you’ve caught the eye of a certain Lord up at the castle.” That made Clarke’s cheeks heat up as she looked down towards the herbs and plants instead of meeting Glass’s eye. “And that you’re likely a Sassenach spy sent to woo the Lord.” Glass’s lips curved up in a smile, “I hear you’re doing a terrific job of it.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped Clarke’s lips, “That’s all? Wow you’d think people who have so much time to gossip would come up with something better.” Glass clucked her tongue, “You’d think wouldn’t you?”

“Are you collecting herbs for the gathering too?” Glass asked Clarke as she pulled up another root.

“Yes, the castle stores are dangerously low. I don’t think this garden will have everything I need.”

Glass nodded, “Aye it won’t. I’m about to head into the woods, there is a stream just off the path where I collect the rarer plants. You’re welcome to join me.” The idea thrilled Clarke, it would give her an opportunity to start cataloging plants in the area.

“Seems you’re being followed though.” Glass lifted her chin over Clarke’s shoulder. She turned to find Murphy leaning against a tree a hundred or so yards away watching their interaction. He winked at Clarke when she caught his eye.

Annoyance surged through Clarke, “Will you excuse me for a minute.” She said to Glass before collecting her basket and storming towards Murphy.

“I. Do. Not. Need. To. Be. Followed!” She seethed at him through her teeth.

The Scott just took another sip from his flask barley even registering her presence. “Luckily that’s not your choice to make princess.” Clarke’s nostrils flared at the sight of him.

“Well who’s choice is it to make then?” Clarke demanded.

“Not yours and not mine princess. If you think for a minute I want to spend my day following around after you, you’re wrong. I’m just following orders.”

“Who’s orders? Bellamy’s?” The mere thought filled Clarke with rage, she was not some bird that needed to be caged, or some lady to be courted.

Murphy scoffed at her, “Please princess, the only people who don’t know you have Bellamy wrapped around your finger are you and Bellamy. Kane sent me.” He leered at her, “It seems you’re not entirely trustworthy. Since Bellamy is blinded by you, Kane’s watching very closely.”

It was a threat.

Clarke huffed at him folding her arms across her chest, “Well since I am to be followed around like a child, I will make sure my days are exceedingly boring for you.” She turned on her heel and strode back to Glass. She heard Murphy push himself off his tree and follow after her.

“Do you always have to be this much of a princess?” He sneered at her.

“Well I don’t know; do you always have to be this much of an ass?”

It wasn’t Clarke who spoke but Glass. She winked at Murphy who stood practically seething three feet away from the women.

“Quiet witch. I wasn’t talking to you.” He quipped back at her, his voice like ice.

Clarke turned to face Glass with a questioning look. The other woman was glaring daggers at Murphy as he trudged along beside them.

She just shook her head at Clarke’s look. “If I’m a witch than St. Nick is real too.” She snorted at Murphy who was now choosing to ignore both of them. “They call me a witch because I can do things that should be impossible.” She whispered low enough to Clarke that Murphy wouldn’t hear.

“Such as?” Clarke was interested now.

“There are many girls who come to me in the village seeking this or that. Most commonly to get rid of a child they don’t want. I know a plant that will do the job. They label me a witch because of it.”

Clarke didn’t have much to say to that, so the three of them continued their journey through the woods to the stream silently after that. Clarke was left to contemplate the world of superstition she had been dropped into. There was so much she didn’t understand about this century, so much ignorance that she could never comprehend. She felt sorry for Glass and the rest of the people here. Their ignorance was their downfall.

They gathered herbs at the stream with relative ease. Murphy spent his time skimming rocks and sharpening his weapons while her and Glass hunted down certain plants, roots, and herbs. Clarke tried to make mental marks of their locations as her and Glass moved up and down the banks. They made quick work of the task and before Clarke knew it their baskets were completely full and they were heading back towards the village and castle Leoch.

They hadn’t been walking far when a strange sound pieced the quiet of the forest. “What was that?” Clarke stopped straining to hear the sound again. Glass and Murphy stopped too, neither of them seeming to hear what was wrong. Clarke’s head snapped around suddenly as she just picked up the subtle cries. “It’s a baby.” She said horrified already moving off the path and towards the sound.

Glass caught Clarke’s arm, pulling her back to face them. “Clarke stop. That’s a fairy elf. That baby is no human child, that’s a changeling.” The hairs rose on the back of Clarke neck, goosebumps forming on her arms. She searched Glass’s face incredulously, she was met with stony resolve.

“What the hell are you talking about? It’s a child.” Clarke scoffed at Glass. _This was ridiculous_. The child’s cries echoed again through the forest.

“When the fairies steal a human child away, they leave one of their own in its place.” She held onto Clarke arm again, hoping that the touch may help Clarke to understand. “You know it’s a changeling because it doesn’t thrive and grow.”

Clarke yank her arm out of Glass’s grip. “This is just a load of superstitious nonsense!” She turned again to follow after the babies cries. Again Glass grabbed her arm.

“Please Clarke!” She begged. “If you leave a changeling out overnight, the fairies will take it back and return the child they’ve stolen.”

Clarke shook her head. This was absolutely backwards and insane. “It won’t come back because it’s not a changeling. It’s a sick child, who won’t survive a night alone.” She turned to Murphy who seemed at least on edge with echoing cries. “Do you believe all this-” She gestured to Glass, “- nonsense?”

Murphy kicked the ground with his foot. His back turned tense as the child’s cries again ricocheted through the forest, “I know there are somethings none of us should be messing in. This is one o’ them.”

Clarke’s hands turned to fists. “I can’t believe the two of you! I have to go.” Clarke stormed off the path and into the woods.

“You go yourself then!” Glass called after her, “I’ll have no part in this!”

_Good riddance_ , Clarke wanted to yell back at her.

“Princess!” This time it was Murphy who called after her, “Come back here! I mean it! You can’t just go wondering into the woods!”

“Well then come with me!” Clarke screamed into the misty woods.

She was not met with a response, instead silence. _Good_. She’d do this alone. The child’s cries again resonated through the trees, this time louder. She was close. Clarke picked up the pace, glad for once that she’d fought Harper this morning on wearing pants, they made rushing through the undergrowth much easier.

Clarke was close. The cries and coughs felt like they were coming from right next to her. She dipped through the trees circling the ground trying to figure out where this child was. Suddenly the child’s cries came to a sudden stop. _Oh god_. Clarke came around a large tree with a hollowed out center. Inside wrapped in cloth and fur nestled a baby.

The child was tiny and weak. Its lips were purple, and it’s face held a blue tint. The eyes were closed, at first when Clarke pulled it from the tree and into her arms she thought it might be sleeping. But it’s tiny chest was not moving. The child was cold and still. _Too late. She was too late_. A crushing weight came down on Clarke. “Oh god! OH GOD!”

Tears pricked at her vision, she couldn’t look away from its blue little face. From the tiny nose and the lips, and the eyes that would never open again. “You poor, poor child.” She whispered to the baby, stroking its head and cheeks. How could anyone do this? How was this allowed to happen? _How how how_ , she kept asking herself over and over again.

Clarke cradled the child against her chest. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered to it. She’s not sure how many time she said the words, just that she knew it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t fair. If she’d moved faster, maybe ran at the first cry. She…no. The child was tiny and weak. Even if she’d been here earlier, there wasn’t much she could’ve done. Clarke knew all of this, but still looking down at that unmoving face, it felt like she’d failed.

So Clarke rocked herself back and forth and let her sobs come. She let her herself cry, let herself break down for the first real time since falling through time. As the minutes ticked by she wasn’t quite sure whether she was crying for the child or for herself. She couldn’t stop.

She felt a body press against her back and arms wind their way around her waist. A head laid itself on her shoulder. Clarke breathed in a familiar scent. _Bellamy_. Her mind sighed his name. His presence already calming her. He ran his hands up and down her arms, held her close until her cries stopped and her shaking limbs stilled.

“I was too late.” She tells him after a while, how long they’ve been sitting together Clarke can’t tell. “I couldn’t save him.” Clarke’s bottom lip wobbles and she descends into another fit of tears. 

Bellamy began whispering things into her ear. Words in the warbled language him and his men use. For some reason his voice calmed her considerably. Clarke took shaky breaths as Bellamy pulled her tighter against him. This helped too. Having him wound around her, the contact – the feel of him made something still in her.

“You have a kind heart Clarke,” He whispered next to her ear, “but even you know not everyone can be saved. You’re dealing in things you don’t fully understand princess.”

Clarke closed her eyes breathing in and out through her nose, trying to find her way back to the happy feeling she’d had leaving the castle gates this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. “Why?” she manages to get out.

“Because it might give the child’s parents some comfort to know their real child is safe and healthy living forever amongst the fairies, and that it was only the changeling who died.”

Clarke’s lips folded into a tight line, angered by his words. “Don’t tell me you believe in fairies and changelings too?”

Bellamy scoffed, the sound low by Clarke’s left ear. “It’s not about what I believe princess. But these people? They’ve never been a day’s walk from the place they were born. They hear no more of the world than what their priest tells them.”

Clarke tried to understand, she really did. But as she looked down at the blue face of the child once again, her heart shattered for it. Clarke let out a shuttering breath, “Take me home Bellamy.” Her voice no higher than a murmur.

“Aye, princess.” He said as he released her from his hold. He stood first as Clarke tried to regain feeling in her limbs. Bellamy took the child gently from her arms and placed him back in the hollowed out tree. Next he bent down in front of Clarke and helped pull her to her feet. Clarke felt numb all over, her limbs heavy. Every movement felt like she was walking through water.

Bellamy swung up onto his horse first and then offered a hand up to Clarke. She took it dazed as he positioned her in front of him, his arms coming around her to take the reins. Clarke was still disoriented, moving through as haze as they began their journey back to the castle.

Bellamy leaned down and a placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. A fire burned under her skin from his contact, snapping Clarke out of her numb state. Bellamy’s warmth filling her.

“I was so worried.” He tells her, his voice almost caressing her ears. “Murphy came barging into my office ranting about you’d ran off into the woods after some changeling baby.” Clarke breathed out a laugh at that imagining Murphy running through the castle raving about her exploits in the woods.

“I jumped on a horse and took off after you. It’s going to be dark soon Clarke. The woods aren’t safe for a woman alone anytime of the day, but especially not at night.” He said gravely. Clarke could feel the tension in his arms, his barely concealed fear.

“Please don’t run off on your own again. I need you. I can’t stand the idea of you being hurt.” Clarke’s heart shuttered in her chest at his confession.

She turned and pressed her face into his neck, leaning fully against him. “I promise,” she whispered to him, “I need you too.” A tear slipped free and ran down Clarke’s cheek, “I’m not going anywhere Bell.”

*******

The castle was a flurry of activity as the gathering loomed over their heads. The days had started to blur together for Clarke. Get up, collect herbs, check old injuries, catalogue plants, eat dinner with Bellamy, sleep, and repeat. Until the gathering was upon the castle.

The clans man arrived like a hurricane. Clarke had never seen the castle grounds so full with people. It wasn’t just the clans man that had arrived either, but their families and extended families too. It was nice to see new faces. Everyone was lively too, happy to meet up with old friends, drink and fornicate with each other.

Everyone else was flying around the castle finishing up one task or another, but Clarke had scarcely seen Bellamy in days. He’d show up at dinner for no longer than a few minutes before he was pulled away to help with the preparations. It was barely enough time for a hello. Clarke knew he was very busy, he was the Lord after all, but she couldn’t help feeling lonely.

If she was admitting it to herself; she missed him. She missed his teasing smile, and his dimples, and the way his eyes got soft when he talked about something he was passionate about, she missed his stories and the way he could read her thoughts with one look. Without him, life at the castle gotten too stiff and stuffy for Clarke.

Harper had dragged Clarke into her room after to lunch demanding that she change outfits for the oath ceremony.

“All the clans man will be dressed in their best, including Bellamy, you can’t show up wearing trousers Clarke!”

After some protest Clarke finally succeeded to Harper’s will. She let Harper strip her down and scrub her skin raw with scented soaps and oils. After she let herself be wrangled into a dreaded corset followed a heavy flowing gown. Harper circled Clarke admiring her creation, “Finally a dress worthy of a princess!”

Clarke only rolled her eyes, “Harper you know I’m not really a princess.” Honestly the whole princess thing was getting really old on Clarke, she’d have thought the whole castle would’ve let the nickname go weeks ago. Clearly it was here to stay.

Harper tapped her chin, “maybe not yet…but someday. Maybe you won’t ever be a princess, but a Lord’s lady? That’s a possibility. Clarke, Lady of Castle Leoch. Imagine it.” Harper sang wistfully it.

Clarke looked down at her feet. This wasn’t really something she wanted to think about. Marriage. To Bellamy. Or to anyone for that matter wasn’t something she felt ready for. “Please don’t say things like that.” Clarke said quietly. Harper’s smile faltered.

“Clarke no one can deny that you have the Lord’s eye, if not certainly his heart too. He won’t be able to look away from you in this dress!” A wide smile stretched on Harper’s lips as she positioned Clarke in front of the mirror. “See? Beautiful. Bellamy will choose you.”

Clarke had to admit what Harper had managed to do really did make her look stunning. Her dress was as red as rose petals, the color was meant to make Clarke stand out- Harper had whispered in her ear. Clarke feared no one would look away from her. The dress was accented in gold, with a gold leafing design on the hems of her arms, chest and bottom of the dress. The gold gave off a regal look and charm. To top it off Harper had added a gold choker that mimicked the embellishment on the dress. Clarke looked like a real princess. Even though she looked picturesque, the words Harper had spoken earlier echoed through her head; _Bellamy will choose you_. The question was, did she even want to be chosen? Did she want this life? Clarke was running out of time to choose.

Clarke walked to the main hall by herself. The pledging will take place there. It will continue on for many hours. Each clan man will present himself in front of Bellamy and repeat an oath pledging his allegiance to Bellamy, or at least that was what she had learned about the ceremony from Raven.

When Clarke rounded the corner the main hall was already a buzz with people, all packed into the room waiting for Bellamy’s appearance. Clarke was about to enter the crowd when movement to her left drew her eye. Standing in an alcove was a couple lips locked around each other. No not a couple. She knew that curly brown hair, those broad shoulder, that small patch of freckles on his neck well enough by now. _Bellamy_. It was Bellamy.

Clarke felt her heart sink in her chest. A small gasp fell from her lips as she quickly turned away and pushed into the crowd. _How could she have been so stupid?_ Bellamy wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t his. She had no claim to him. She shouldn’t feel this way- this devastated. She’s only known this boy for two months. She’d let herself be reeled in, she’d let herself start to fall for him. Yet there he was pulling some other girl into an alcove with him. Some one who wasn’t her. Her throat felt scratchy and her vision filled with tears. Clarke was so lost; she didn’t even realize she’d stumbled directly into Raven until the girl was practically screaming into her face.

“Clarke! You alive in there, Griffin?” Raven was wearing an easy smile, but it quickly fell away when she took in Clarke’s barely concealed tears.

“What’s happened?”

“Nothing.” Clarke turned away and stubbornly wiped away at the tears with the back of hand. She promised herself that this would be the first and only time she would cry over Bellamy Blake. “I’m fine.” She told Raven coldly, her eyes like steel when she turned back to face the front of the crowd.

Bellamy now stood at the front of the room. Raven was still watching her warily as Bellamy began to speak. After a minute or so of Clarke refusing to look at her Raven nodded to herself and began translating the speech for her. Clarke was thankful that Raven didn’t push her, she wouldn’t ask unless Clarke talked first.

Clarke had found out that the language Bellamy and the other clan people spoke was called trigedasleng. It still managed to captivate Clarke. Even though she couldn’t understand a word of it, Bellamy always managed to convey the emotion of his speeches to her without a common word shared. As much as she wanted to remain indifferent to him, hearing his speech hurt. He had whispered words like this to her before; to help her sleep, and to calm her. She could almost feel his lips against her ear.

The people in the room hooted and hollered, stomping their feet and slamming their fists on tables when his speech ended. Many cheered his name raising their glasses to him. Bellamy was always captivating when he spoke his speeches. He could rally any man, make anyone fight and die for him if he had too.

Next came the oaths, these were spoken in English. The first person to make an oath was Miller, Bellamy’s right hand and most trusted ally and friend.

A hush fell over the crowd as Miller kneeled in front of Bellamy lifted his sword and repeated the ancient oath, “I swear by the holy iron that I hold, to pledge my loyalty to your name. And if ever I should raise my hand against you in rebellion, I ask that this holy iron shall pierce my heart.” Bellamy nodded at Miller and both men rose.

Miller shelfed his blade as Bellamy presented him with a bowl full of red wine, symbolically to represent blood Clarke assumed. Miller took a sip first followed by Bellamy. The crowd assembled applauded joyfully.

As a line formed of other men ready to take the oath, Bellamy’s eyes lifted towards the crowd and met hers. Clarke held his gaze, trapped by the heat in his eyes, coupled with a softness that seemed to surface only when he looked at her. For a second she latched onto his gaze. A mist clouded Clarke’s vision and her throat felt scratchy again, a clear sign she was about to cry. She couldn’t breathe right with his eyes holding hers with such tenderness. _I would have chosen you_ , Clarke thought hopelessly, holding back a sob.

Clarke turned and began to push through the crowd. She couldn’t stay in this room with him, not when he was looking at her with such…she couldn’t bring herself to think the word. She knew for certain though, and her realization only made the whole thing more heartbreaking.

*******

Rousing herself out of bed the next morning was hard enough. While most of other castle inhabitants got to sleep off their hangovers, Clarke was up with the dawn. Today was the morning of the hunt. Where twenty or so hungover clans man take horses and muskets and try to kill one hairy boar. She’d been told by Kane that a healer would be needed in case there were any injuries. With most of the hunting party still drunk from the night before she knew her services would be needed. None of this helped the dread that filled her as she walked her horse over to the rest of the hunting party. He was going to be here; he’d be leading the hunting party.

The rest of the hunting party started to mount their horses, Clarke had yet to spot Bellamy. Maybe he was too hungover, maybe he was still preoccupied with that girl from last night? Clarke thought bitterly.

Clarke was readying to get up onto her horse when she felt firm hands on her waist, “Let me give you a hand there, Princess.” His teasing tone only made her anger rise.

Clarke pushed his hands away as though they had burned her. “I don’t need your help.” She told him coldly. Clarke kept her back to him as she put on foot in the stirrup and used her momentum to successfully pull herself up onto the horse.

She was determined not to talk to him. To ignore him until this whole thing was over and then she could go and hide away in the basement. Of course Bellamy wasn’t in on this plan as he rode up next to her. “Did I do something Clarke?”

Clarke’s grip on her reins tightened, she kept her head facing forward. “No. You didn’t.” She told him flatly.

“Come on princess, you haven’t look at me this coldly since I dropped you on your ass in the bushes by the river.” She could hear the smile in his voice, his flirtatious tone needling at her. _That’s it_. Clarke’s grip like steel on the reins.

Clarke spun her horse around in one quick motion cutting into his path causing his horse to stop short. She glowered at his shocked expression, anger simmered under her skin ready to boil over.

“What am I to you? If you’re just looking for someone to warm your bed that’s not me!” she cried at him, her voice like ice. “If that’s all you want from me; you can find it with some other girl because I am not interested!”

“Clarke-” Bellamy tried to interject, his eyes pleading with her.

“-No Bellamy.” She cut him off, “We’re done.”

She pulled back on the reins turned her horse around and sped off after the rest of the hunting party. Bellamy didn’t follow her. In fact, he kept his distance the rest of the day. Clarke was fine with that, she hung out in the back of the party with Jasper, who seemed more interested in asking about her knowledge of moonshine than anything else.

The hunting party had been coaming the woods for a few hours when they heard the first screams. Clarke took off after them with Jasper hot on her heels.

She turned a corner to find Sterling flat on his back clutching his leg, his horse was nowhere to be seen, probably took off after the boar attacked. Clarke kneeled down next to Sterling to examine his right leg. The flesh was torn but not deeply as though the boar’s tusks had just scraped his leg, not actually punctured through it, but it was bleeding profusely.

“Am I going to lose my leg?” Sterling’s eyes were wide with panic.

Clarke lips thinned as she began to pull out bandages from her pack to wrap the wound, “No lucky for you, the wound is only superficial.” Sterling let out a relieved breath his head falling back to the ground.

“But-”Clarke pulled on a bandage causing Sterling to tense, “that doesn’t mean you get to act stupid! What is the matter with you men, have you forgotten their tusks are lethal?”

Sterling groaned again as Jasper helped him to his feet. “Take him back to the castle.” Clarke commanded.

“No I can’t leave you alone Clarke.” Jasper tried to reason with her.

Another cry of pain filled the forest, Clarke began moving towards it pack slung over her shoulders. “Clarke! Wait!” Jasper called unable to rush after her with a half conscious Sterling leaning on him.

Clarke left him behind following the most recent screams. ‘Men’ she muttered under her breath, ‘always doing stupid impulsive things.’ Clarke was just about to climb over a hill when she heard some wrestling in the bushes to her left, and then followed by a snort and wheezed breathing. Clarke stilled stopping in her tracks, knowing that the animal was already spooked and likely to attack.

The pig snorted again this time to her right, as more bushes wrestled. Clarke spun around to face it only to hear its shrieked cry from behind her. She turned around just as the boar charged out of the bushes headed straight for her. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Clarke stumbled backwards as the pig leapt from the bushes. She screamed waiting for the slash of its tusks.

There was a sudden pop from behind her and then silence. Clarke blinked, stunned. The boar lay less than a foot from her motionless on the ground, a musket shot through its head. She turned around to see Bellamy staring at her through the undergrowth, his rifle still raised on the pig.

Before either could move that same anguished shout filled the air. Clarke pulled herself together and stood on shaky legs, she had a job to do. When she turned back to the undergrowth Bellamy was gone.

Clarke followed the hallowed shouts, now more like whimpers to a grove. Most of the hunting party stood idle watching with grim faces at a man lying on the ground. Clarke’s heart shuttered, it was Adam. She dropped down to his side, Bellamy was already there hovering over Adam. She could see how hard this was for him, Adam was one of Bellamy’s men- more like a brother.

His breathing was labored and erratic. He had a seeping wound on his leg that wasn’t fatal, if Clarke could stop the bleeding in time he might even keep his leg. But he had another wound to his abdomen that would be fatal. The boar’s tusks had cut his skin and organs to ribbons, he didn’t have much time left. She looked up gravely at Bellamy, who was watching her tensely, and shook her head once- a clear signal to him. Bellamy’s face paled.

Adam, noticing that Clarke hadn’t started to pull out bandages or tried to tamper the bleeding, opened his mouth trying to speak. He let out choked cries instead.

“Shh, Adam. Don’t try to speak.” She rubbed her hand on his cheek.

He was suffering. He would continue to suffer for a while, if could be hours before his body finally gave out. It wasn’t fair to him, that much Clarke knew.

Clarke began to hum softly to him. It was the same tune she’d once hummed for Bellamy in his room. As she did this she reached forward and pulled a knife out of Bellamy’s belt. It was small, good for carving, but it would work for what she needed to do. Bellamy gripped the knife in Clarke’s hand, she tried to use her eyes to tell him that this needed to be done. _He’s suffering_ , she told him. _I know_ , he responded.

Bellamy let go of the knife, nodding a thanks at Clarke. He couldn’t do this, that much Clarke knew. He couldn’t kill his friend.

She continued to hum and stroke Adams face with her right hand. His eyes closed as he listened to her song. With her left hand Clarke brought the knife up to his neck. A tear rolled down Adam’s cheek as she punctured his artery. Death came quick after that, a peaceful calm over took him, and then in a few seconds he was gone.

The mood was somber as they returned to the castle, Adam’s body strewn over the back of one of the horses, wrapped in a thin blanket.

Clarke headed straight down to surgery, needed to get rid of the bloody bandages, she wasn’t surprised when he followed her. Bellamy sat on the floor leaning against the brick wall of the basement. His eyes were dark and glazed over as Clarke put away all of her supplies from the hunt. Once she was done, she came and sat down next to him, their shoulders touching.

“I’m sorry about Adam.” She tells him after a minute of silence.

Bellamy shook his head, a remorseful look on his face. “He was a good guy, one of the best.” He turned to look Clarke in the eye, “Thank you for what you did. You ended his suffering. You helped him die in peace.” Clarke watched a tear roll down his cheek, she leaned forward and wiped it away with her thumb- it was an impulse, something she didn’t have to think twice about.

Bellamy reached up and covered her hand with his own, holding their hands against his cheek, his eyes fluttered closed as he breathed in and out.

“I saw you yesterday kissing a girl before the oath ceremony.” Bellamy’s eyes snap open at her words. He lets their hands fall.

It probably wasn’t the best time to tell him, but she wanted him to know. Bellamy’s eyes searched hers. Clarke looked down at her lap, a silence falling again between the two of them.

“Clarke,” Bellamy reached forward and cupped her chin with his hand. “Roma is an old friend. We’ve had… _relations_ together in the past. But that was before I met you.” He rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip, “She pulled me into the alcove wanting to talk. Really she wanted something else, something that in past years I would have given to her. But kissing her felt wrong, I realized she wasn’t who I wanted to be with.” His brown eyes held her blue, warmth shot through her under his gaze.

Bellamy smiled woefully at her, “She wasn’t you.”

Clarke laughed leaning forwards and resting their foreheads against each other. “Took you long enough.” She quipped at him, a smile etching its way onto her face.

Bellamy huffed out a laugh, “Well we all can’t be as smart as you princess.” He pulled back and pressed a tender kiss on her temple. Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut. _He chooses me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got such good support and feedback the first chapter so thanks you guys! I hope you loved this one too. Please leave a comment/ kudos!


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